Reunion
Background Music: Satellite by Rise Against ---- It's after dark, and all is silent in the scrapyard. It would appear that no mechs are around, save for a few half functioning perimeter check drones, winding in lonely circles around piles of junk. All of sudden, on the far side of the yard, the sound of tumbling metal can be heard. Atop a tall pile of scrap is the silhouette of a mysterious mech with a large cannon. He's rifling through the junk, looking for an shoulder mount for his cannon... She'd come here to think. Having said what was effectively her last goodbyes, and making what she assumes will be her last words to those she knew only briefly, Shiftlock has stopped to cultivate a game plan for her life in the middle of rust and decay. The noise immediately attracts her attention, and she moves to conceal herself, observing the stranger first, before stalking carefully through the debris to get a closer look. The stranger steps downwards a bit, into the light, continuing to rifle through the pile of scraps. Surely Shiftlock will recognize him. Even though Drift now has a brand new paint job, crystal clear optics--and armor. Expensive armor that usually only Autobots are allowed access to. He doesn't see her though. His demeanor has changed. He looks dangerously bitter. And the massive cannon he's carrying just adds to his lethal appearance. If she didn't know any better, she'd probably stay the slag away from him, because he looks like someone who might blast a hole in your chassis if you cross him wrong. Shift knows better, but this is Drift. He's always been worth the risk in her estimation. "... Drift?" she asks cautiously, hopefully. "I-is that you?" He startles, and whirls on her, aiming the cannon straight at her faceplates. "Don't move," he says in a commandeering tone of voice. Then, his demeanor crumbles a little. "Wait a minute..." ".... I'm sorry. I tried to find you and I couldn't," Shiftlock says, standing stock straight and not moving away from that barrel, optics meeting Drift's. If he wants to shoot her, well, so be it. At least she tried. "... They tried to erase my memory. I lost a lot time. I thought I lost you, too." "Shift?!!" Recognitions dawns on Drift. Suddenly, he throws down his cannon and runs straight towards her. He grins, and his optics are bright and cheery like she's never seen before. He picks her up and spins her around, in the same way soldier coming home from war greets his sweetheart. "I thought I'd never see this ray of sunshine ever again," he says, putting her down gently. Then his optics narrow. "... who's they?" "... oh my primus you aren't high are you?" Shiftlock is really, really hoping Drift isn't, because, well, he's usually so... depressed. The only time she's seen him happy is when he's full of circuit speeders or hopped up on syk. "Where did you get the armor? You look fantastic. Upgraded, even!" she asks, distracting him from the 'who' until she can figure out what's happened to him, and how mentally stable he is. Drift laughs. "Do I look like it?" He grins, leaning closer. His optics are crystal clear and he isn't showing any of the other telltale signs of being on a drug trip. He leans away, and laughs. Yes, he laughs. She probably has never heard him laugh before, either. "Mech, I've got nothing on you! Anyway.. about that. You probably don't want to know." He winks. Then he looks concerned. "What are you doing out here by yourself anyway? I mean, what happened to you? I haven't seen you in so long." He touches her faceplate gently before moving away, to pick up his cannon again. "I was attacked. They tried to erase my memories. Again," Shiftlock says, almost afraid to say anything more for fear of ruining Drift's mood. "I want to tell you everything, because I came here to prepare myself to ..." She vents deeply, looking down, steeling herself. "... I'm probably going to die soon. So I'm going to Kaon." Drift's optics narrow. "Who. Who did this." He hefts the cannon onto his shoulder. "No," he says firmly. "You are not." He takes her hand and starts leading her away from the scrapyard. "I am going to make sure of that. And whoever erased your memories--well let's just say for now that I'm going to deliver justice as I see fit." "You saw the news right?" Shiftlock asks Drift uneasily. "That was me. I broke free, I had to. What Ratbat was doing was beyond wrong, and I was so tired of being used by him, I couldn't stand it anymore!" It's all starting to bubble up and flow out in one big emotional tangle. "He took my past from me! I don't know where I came from anymore, if there are any more like me - it's all gone forever! I could have conjunx or amica endurae I don't even KNOW about and I will never remember!" She follows Drift down the hill, holding onto his hand as if it were a nucleon feed keeping her on life support. "Blurr... I tried to show him the truth and I think they got to him. I went to talk to him about finding element zero and he attacked me. Stabbed me in the back of the neck with an erasure tool. Left my lying on the street outside his apartment apparently, I had to go to this psychologist's office ... I forget his name, Wrong or something -- he helped me recover what he could--!" "Drift it's -bad-. I'm all the way down the petrorabbit hole on this one." "...that was you? Damn, girl," he says, shaking his helm. His optics narrow more, and slowly, as she speaks and he listens, they start to simmer with rage. He holds tightly to her hand. "No. You are /not/ beyond saving. I will go to the inferno and back before you get dragged down by those strutless bastards." He grips her hand servo more tightly. "I'm going to kill all of those damn slaggers. And when they're all dead, you won't have to worry anymore. It'll all be over." He glances back at her fondly. "We can steal a ship from somewhere, and run away to some far away planet where there's no corrupt government or flawed society ladders. Just you and me. We won't have to answer to anyone except ourselves." "But ... what about everyone else here? What happens to them if we leave, Drift?" Shiftlock asks uneasily. "There are a lot of innocent people who are suffering because of what's going on here, I can't just turn my back on them and leave them to their fate like that." "Who else is going to care about them?" Drift just gives her pained look. "Shift, there are only so many people that you can take care of. Trying to fix all the problems our society has is like trying to empty the Mithril Sea with an optic dropper. You can only do so much. One day, I'm going to help take out the Senate. Either that or I'll take them all out myself, so help me Primus. And once that's happens, we won't have to worry about all the poor and powerless. Because no one will be oppressing them anymore. And then..." he pulls her closer with the hand he's holding and whispers in her audio receptor, "we can run away. Forever." Unfortunately, there is some wisdom in Drift's words. She would be violating her own stated goal - change no one but yourself - if she attempted to gather the entire populace of Cybertron under her protective wing. Drift can probably -see- how she's ruminating carefully over everything he's said. And then he pulls her closer. Has the mech been taking suave classes because -Primus on a pogostick- she feels positively charged up and half smelted all at once. "y... you mean it?" she asks, because the running away together requires at least a 'yes really'. "I couldn't be more serious," he says, looking her straight in the optics, his own wide. He smiles at her. "C'mon, I was never one to kid around." He starts pulling her along again, gently. "Any other mechs make attempts on your life?" "No," she says. She's forgotten completely about Blast Off; she'd forgiven him for his attempt and passed it off as him being forced to do the same terrible things she had. No harm, no foul. "--wait, you're going after the Senate? You -are- going to Kaon then, aren't you?" "Now isn't a good time," Drift says, shaking his helm. "We're going to have to make several pitstops before heading there...I have some... things I need to take care of," he says, glancing away. "All right. I'll go where you go," Shiftlock agrees (maybe foolishly, who knows!). "I can help you if you like. I can do things you might not be aware of." "I knew I could count on you." His optics light up. He pauses. "I'd like that. A lot, actually, but.. I don't want to put you in danger. Again." He squeezes her hand gently. "As long as there's zero risk of you dying or getting hurt, I might ask you to do some undercover work. Are you okay with at?" He nods at her. "... Do you know what I am?" Shiftlock asks. "I... I don't think I ever showed you. There's a reason i was given to Ratbat as a gift." "Yeah, kinda." He laughs. "I remember the time you broke me out of prison. So I put the pieces together a little bit." "Yeah, well, I'm probably the last of my frametype, too," Shiftlock sighs. She makes herself brighten up. "But that's not important right now. I'm just happy you're alive, and you're okay. I thought maybe you were... dead. I came here to prepare to sacrifice myself, because you're all I have." "Exactly why you shouldn't go suicidal on me." He smiles and puts an arm around her. "Yeah, me too. You're all I have, too. But don't worry. We're going to stick this out together. I promise. And nothing, and no one is ever going to hurt you again." Suddenly, Drift's communicator seems to be beeping a notification at him. Someone wants to talk to him. Someone important, one of his clients, in fact... "You'd better take that. Name a renedezouv point, I'll catch up with you, unless you want me to come along," Shiftlock says. He just takes her hand playfully. "No, you're coming with me. I'll be damned if I let you out of my sight even for one nano-klik." He winks. "Come on." "Will do then!" She's not going to argue. She's just happy (and confused and hopeful and ridiculously charmed) that Drift is in one mentally sound piece.